


wanna be yours

by emblems



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Domestic, Frottage, M/M, Oral Sex, Sexual Content, Trans Male Character, Vaginal Fingering, sensei gets drunk but no drunk sex promise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-20
Updated: 2016-08-20
Packaged: 2018-08-10 00:44:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7823599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emblems/pseuds/emblems
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p></p><blockquote>
  <p>What starts as coffee turns into Ukai making breakfast outright—it keeps his hands busy and his mind occupied on something that isn’t Takeda, something that isn’t reflecting on how well he fits into the landscape of Ukai’s living space.</p>
</blockquote>
            </blockquote>





	wanna be yours

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Airheart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Airheart/gifts).



> [a note: ukai is aware of takeda's gender status since staying together during the tokyo training camp]
> 
> [if there's anything you're uncomf with let me know and i will gladly make rewrites as necessary/requested]

The beginning of the descent came when, after one too many drinks after a practice match, Takeda leaned against Ukai and asked: “Isn’t your house closer, Keishin?”

His breath is warm on Ukai’s neck, and he wonders which of the two things—the sensation versus the use of his given name—is more intimate.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Ukai mutters.

“Mm, I disagree,” Takeda says, hiccuping a little. His nose brushes over the juncture of Ukai’s neck and shoulder.

Ukai is starting to wonder himself—the sooner Takeda is in a bed, the better, regardless of whose it might be.

As much as he wants to fold to Takeda's urging, to give in and take everything Takeda is offering (and it's a lot, it's words and thoughts and images that make Ukai's knees wobble and his mouth go dry)—

—he can't. Not when Takeda is like this, when he might not even remember any of this come morning. So he takes Takeda home and puts him to bed before crashing on his futon, praying for his hangover to be merciful.

 

* * *

 

The next morning, Ukai stands at the doorway and again finds himself questioning the logic behind his decisions, because his heart seems to be beating rather uncontrollably.

He’d lent Takeda one of his sweatshirts and, well—seeing him in it, hair mussed, sitting up in a pool of sheets on Ukai’s bed—

It’s doing things to him.

Grateful Takeda doesn’t have his glasses and thus probably can’t see the flush on his cheeks, Ukai crosses the room and sits down on the bed.

“Good morning, Ukai-kun,” Takeda says, voice hoarse.

Ukai presses a glass of water into Takeda’s hands. “Drink.” Takeda does, tilting his head back to take several gulps. “Small sips, Jesus,” Ukai mutters. “Don’t choke.

Takeda sets the glass down on the table and looks around, squinting. “Where are—”

Ukai produces Takeda’s glasses. “They’re right here. They fell off on the way to the bedroom.”

“Thank you,” Takeda says, slipping them on. “And thank you for letting me sleep in your bed.”

Ukai shrugs, actively trying to ignore what the image of Takeda in his bed is doing to him. “My place was closer.”

“I believe I made that point last night,” Takeda says, smiling.

Ukai swallows. “So you remember.”

“I remember you looking out for me,” Takeda says. “I remember that you didn’t want to do anything while I was drunk.”

Ukai clears his throat. “Anything else you remember?”

Takeda narrows his eyes just a fraction. “Like what?”

_Like the walk home when you told me you wanted to get on your knees and suck me off, for one. Telling me about how you think about my mouth on you, for another._

“Nothing in particular,” Ukai eventually says.

“Oh,” Takeda says. “Well, regardless—thank you, Ukai-kun.”

He starts to shuffle closer. Ukai stands and clears his throat again, rubbing his hands down his thighs just for something to do (and also because they may be sweating, just a little, but he doesn't want to think about why that might be). “Coffee?”

Takeda looks up at him, expression quizzical for a moment before he relaxes. “Sure.”

What starts as coffee turns into Ukai making breakfast outright—it keeps his hands busy and his mind occupied on something that isn’t Takeda, something that isn’t reflecting on how well he fits into the landscape of Ukai’s living space.

“I didn’t know you cooked,” Takeda says, coming into the kitchen. He pours the coffee for both of them, setting a mug beside the stove for Ukai.

“Not sure eggs count as cooking,” Ukai responds with a shrug.

Takeda settles against the counter next to the stove, hands cupping his mug.

“Still, there are some people who can burn water if you leave them unattended.”

Ukai looks sidelong at Takeda. “Why do you sound like you’re speaking from experience?”

Takeda smiles. “Take out and I go way back.”

“You teacher types,” Ukai says, flipping the egg. “Focusing more on your students than taking care of yourselves.”

Takeda shrugs. “I know where to get good food, at least.” He lets the sentence hang there for a minute before continuing: “You like udon, right?”

 

* * *

 

It takes roughly ten minutes for Ukai to start questioning _this_  decision, too, because an actual planned  _date_ with Takeda is its own set of difficulties.

Takeda looks—well, not like a sensei. He has one less button done up, and he left the tie at home, and when their food comes he rolls his shirt sleeves up, baring pale forearms with soft skin that Ukai would like very much to—

He averts his eyes and focuses on his noodles, slurping loudly as if he can tune out his own thoughts.

Distractions aside—conversation is easy, natural, as it always is. It starts in familiar territory, with the volleyball club, and Ukai finds himself wondering if he'll ever tire of the way Takeda's eyes light up when he talks about the team, about the practice matches he's trying to schedule, about his hopes for Karasuno.

(He doesn't think he will.)

Eventually, conversation drifts into the more personal, and this, too, feels organic, one topic leading into the next. 

There's not a single red flag to be found, really, until:

"You don't eat out often do you, Ukai-kun?"

Ukai, food halfway to his mouth, pauses.

His eyes shift from Takeda—who has an elbow on the table, one hand propping up his head as he eyes Ukai with just-barely lidded eyes—to the drink on the table, which is barely half-empty. Takeda's cheeks are just the little bit pink, but there's no way he's anything past tipsy. 

He knows exactly what he's doing; it doesn't stop there, either, because in between sentences and words and thoughts Takeda will do little things—a foot against Ukai's ankle, taking Ukai's wrist and squeezing before letting his fingers drift over the skin there, and yet more "blink-and-you'll-miss-it" inneundo.

He keeps a careful eye on Takeda's drink, on his eyes, listens for a slur in Takeda's words that never comes.

So he relaxes a little, and tries to keep up with the pace Takeda is setting.

Knowing now that they both want this, even when they’re not intoxicated—Ukai can at least move forward with a clean conscience, even if Takeda is a devious man intent on getting Ukai to flush six different colors before dessert.

So Ukai takes him home again.

 

* * *

 

Takeda fits very nicely into Ukai’s lap, he’s noticing. His thighs straddle him, balancing on his knees so Ukai has to lean up and into the kiss.

Ukai rests his hands on Takeda’s hips, thumbs rubbing circles into the skin exposed as he pushes Takeda’s shirt up.

Takeda’s hands cup Ukai’s face, fingers toying with tufts of hair. An experimental tug makes Ukai gasp, and Takeda takes full advantage and fits his tongue against Ukai’s.

Their breaths mingle, and Ukai can’t help remembering the last time they did this, the taste of sake lingering on Takeda’s lips, in his mouth, heady and intoxicating.

This time, though, everything is crystal clear, and that brings with it a keen awareness of certain things that escaped Ukai before.

Like Takeda’s ability to think of little details; his hands trace indiscriminate patterns on Ukai’s torso while his hips roll in circles against Ukai’s, leaving Ukai little room for respite.

Ukai is in fact very concerned that Takeda would just as soon consume him if Ukai let him.

He considers it, for a moment.

Takeda doesn’t really give him the chance to reach a conclusion, though—his hands pull away from beneath Ukai’s shirt and start drifting lower, until there’s a set of fingers working away at the waistband of his pants.

“Takeda-sensei,” he breathes out, “you don’t have to—”

“I want to,” is the hushed reply, spoken just next to Ukai’s ear as he finally gets Ukai’s fly down. 

Takeda wastes no time, palming Ukai through his underwear and making him groan. Ukai lets his head fall back, exposing more of his neck to Takeda.

Never letting an opportunity go to waste, Takeda mouths at the newly-exposed skin there even as his hand continues rubbing against Ukai’s cock.

“I still wanna suck you off,” Takeda says.

“Sensei—Ittetsu—” this time Takeda groans at the use of his given name “—much as I love that idea, I have something else in mind.”

Takeda draws back just enough so he can meet Ukai’s eyes. “And what’s that?”

“Sit back,” is Ukai’s only response.

There’s some repositioning for a moment, but before long Ukai has Takeda leaning back on the sofa, and he lowers himself to the floor.

“Lift your hips,” Ukai says gently after undoing the fastenings of Takeda’s pants.

Takeda has a hand in Ukai’s hair, and he squeezes, pulling on some of the strands. “Ukai-kun—”

He presses a kiss to Takeda’s hip. “Trust me.”

Takeda runs his fingers through Ukai’s hair for a moment before nodding. “Okay.”

He slides Takeda’s pants off, and then he turns his attention to the boxers. He leaves his hands on the waistband and looks Takeda dead in the eye. “Can I take these off?”

Takeda nods again. “Yes,” he says, eyes glassy. At this point, Ukai is certain his intentions are clear, and getting confirmation of Takeda’s interest comes as a relief.

He rolls Takeda’s underwear down smoothly, and then there’s nothing between Ukai and Takeda’s center. He meets Takeda’s gaze. “Can I?”

“Please,” Takeda says, licking his lips. “Please, Ukai-kun.”

He starts slow, running his thumb along Takeda’s clit, but their time spent rutting on the couch clearly has him worked up, because his back arches clear off the couch and his mouth falls open in a silent groan.

Ukai presses down as he rubs a circle around the spot, soaking in the way Takeda finally lets go and moans, fingers gripping the couch cushions.

The light is dim, but somehow it’s just enough to set off Takeda’s features—the furrow in his brow and the line of his neck as he slowly comes undone under Ukai’s fingers.

When he presses his mouth to Takeda, his hands fly to Ukai's hair, pushing his headband off and tangling his fingers. The tug on his scalp makes Ukai hum, and it elicits yet another moan from Takeda. He swipes his tongue, slow and firm, squeezing Takeda's hips to hold him place.

"Ukai-kun— _Keishin_ ," Takeda says, voice climbing, " _please_."

"Your neighbors are going to hear us if you keep this up," Ukai says, mouthing at the skin of Takeda's inner thigh. 

"Let them," Takeda says, breathing heavily and letting another moan slip out when Ukai returns to his ministrations, kissing Takeda's clit.

_If you're sure_ , Ukai thinks to himself, and that's when he slips a finger in (god, he's tight), crooking it as he moves it in and out, making Takeda's breath come in short, quick gasps. 

"M'close," he says, fingers impossibly tight in Ukai's hair now. " _Please, please—_ "

Ukai sucks hard—once, twice, and that does it. Takeda arches off the couch, into Ukai's mouth, and Ukai lets him ride out his orgasm on Ukai's tongue and fingers, until his walls stop contracting around his fingers. He pulls out and sits back on his haunches.

Takeda looks at him with wide, dark eyes, cheeks flushed a shade of pink Ukai has never seen before.

With a smile, Ukai licks his lips. "Does that answer your earlier question, Takeda-sensei?"

Takeda sags against the cushions, laughing. "Get up here," he says hoarsely. "And let me return the favor."

Ukai clambers up and plasters himself against Takeda, and lets him do just that. 

**Author's Note:**

> i'm like hyper nervous abt this bc this is my first time writing ukatake, and i wanted to work in your takeda hc, and also i wanted to do my very best to hit that tone you mentioned in your letter for these two; it's one of my favorite aspects of this relationship, too, so i really wanted to do it justice and i'm hoping i succeeded and that you enjoyed. <3


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